The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1887-12-07
CROClFISSA'S LACE.
BY LUCY BLAKE.


BY LUCY BLAKE.
High up among the Tuscan mountains
not fur from the borders of Lombardy, is
a tiny hamlet called Piatico. 1t has a
church, and the few strangers who visit
the quiet little nook and enter the humhle
sanctuary wonder at the handsome lace
decorating the Madonna's blue silk petti
coat. All the rest of the ornamentation
Is so tawdry and poor that the delicate
fabric looks strangely out of place. How
came it there9 is question the old
woman who unlocks the door is proud
to answer.
Amy and l had put up for the hottest
summer weeks at the barn like old post
Inn at Piatico. Often during our walks
through the chestnut woods, or up the
steep paths of the mountain-side. we met
tall, slim girl of eighteen, with strik
ingly beautiful dark eyes, which haunted
US by reason of their extreme sadness.
She wore skimp gown of homespun, its
original color matter of conjecture
onlyi her well-modeled feet were bare.
and she was usually in charge of seven
sheep and one little lame black lamb.
Sometimes we saw her under tree knit
ting an interminable blue stockino-for
other feet than her own, evidently
while the sheep grazed. Or, in the open
held, In the pouring rain, this ghost-iike
girl would sit on the soaking ground,
: huddled under an old green umbrella
this to restrain neighbours COW, getting
her supper of < ass, from invading an
adjacent cabbage e-patch. The girl always
gave us gracious "Good-dayn as she
passed, and seem pleased when ANY
smiled at her in return.
"Who is she2h we inquired of the mis-
tress of our inn.
You mean the girl who drives the
sheep with lame black lamb among
themr answered our hostess. "That IS
Crocitlssa, poor girl, the convict's daugh
ter Hers is hard lot among little
community where none lie on roses,
assure you. Her father, Sander. has a
bad history, and the shadow of it darkens
the girls life.
"oh, tell i'll" cried Amy, dropping
down upon stool beside the comfort.
able-looking old dame.
ut is soon told, signora, the story of
most sins is short; it is the misery of
them that drags on so wearily. When
Sandro was young, he killed man in a
passion of jealousy-a woman at the bot
tom of the affair, of course-stabbed him
from behind in the dark, and then threw
him down into the Lima to drown if the
wound was not deep enough to give him
his death. They were year or more
fastening the murder opon Sandro. but
he confessed il at last over glass too
much Of Chianti. He was sentenced for
twenty years to prison and hard labor.
When his time was out, strangely enough,
he chose to come back here to Plat co
and, stranger still, he found a woman
foolish enough to marry him, knowing
all about his crime. This poor weak thing
died when Crocifssa was born. and the
child's life has been so wretched. il
seems a,pity she did not die too.n
Are they so very poorg'
"Mlsembly; and because of the
fathers disgrace everybody shuns the
daughter. Cruel, isn't itg But that is
the way of the world. l should make
one exception when I say everyone turns
the cold shoulder upon ner. Perhaps
the saddest part of Crocifssa's history is
that she hasa lover whom she can scarcely
ever hope to marry"
us he so poor, tOol"
''Hlis name is Reno, very good fel
low, but no luck He makes a little
money with his donkey, carving fruit
and vegetables to the hotel at Abetone.
but he has blind old mother to helm
and he can save nothing. Crocifissa
earns few francs spinning and
knitting stockings, and the profits from
the sheep put a scanty supply of bread
in the mouths of the convict and his
daughter, and keep crazy roof over
their heads Crocihssa can make beauti-
full lace but she hurts her eyes at it, and
a doctor told her she would go blind if
she made any more"
''She has such lovely eyesl'' said Amy,
enthusiastically.
Yes with bit of happiness to
brighten her, she would be the prettiest
girl in these parts. AS it is, her good
looks are little use, poor thingp
Cant Reno hit upon a more paying
business than donkey-drivirgt" l ask.
''He wishes to go down 10 the Marem-
ma, where he would get good wages and
be able to put by little, but Crocifssa
will not hear of it. She is right, 1
think, for Reno is not strong, and the
marsh fever would be sure to carry him
off. Few people have been kind to the
girl, and no dog ever loved his master as
Crociissa loves RemO.n
Poor girl what pity they cannot
make each other happyw
g If they had little capital, two or
three hundred frances, to hire and fur
nish room, they could manage to live;
but hundred franc pieces do not fall
from the clouds.
Life at Paris being dull and bare of
incident, we felt much interested in
Crocihssa's story, and cultivated her &C.
quaintance upon every occasion. She
gave us flowers and berries gathered in
pretty little baskets improvised by her
self from chestnut leaves, and with her
eyes bent shyly on her knitting, talked
TO us Of her simple, uneventful life.
When Reno, her lover, was under dis
oussion- which was frequently the case,
Crocihssa's large eyes glowed with a
soft, happy light, and she became beau
tifuk But the brightness vanished
quickly at memory Of the sordid misery